The Grieving King-SYOC
by Lorelai Sofia Petrova
Summary: Having to take up his duties as King following the deaths of his Mother and Father. King Charles must also take on the selection. With only his sister left to take comfort in, will the King find the right woman to heal his grieving heart. SYOC Closed. 20/35
1. The Form

Be detailed in your profiles. The more I have to go on the more likely your character will be staying around.  
>Send trough PM only. I will not be considering submissions that are sent by review.<br>Have Fun!

Selection Form

Full Name (First, Middle and last):

Nickname:

Age:

Birthday:

Province:

Caste:

Occupation:

Personality(Minimal five sentences):

History:

Family(Role, Name, Job, Personality, Look alike):

Languages:

Hobbies:

Likes:

Dislikes:

Best traits:

Worst traits:

Talents:

Celebrity look alike:

Distinguishing Features in the profile picture:

Farewell look:

After Makeover look:

Reason for Entering:

Does she have rebel connections:

What does the King think of your character:

Thoughts on King Charles:

Thoughts on Princess Amelia:

How do they treat the other contestants:

How do they treat their maids:

Brief description of their maids:

Strategy to win:

Ideal First Date:

Does your character keep in touch with anyone after the selection:  
>Anything Else:<p> 


	2. The Funeral

Having to take up his duties as King following the deaths of his Mother and Father. King Charles must also take on the selection. With only his sister left to take comfort in, will the King find the right woman to heal his grieving heart. SYOC Open 1/35

I don't own The Selection Trilogy. You may submit up to three characters. Only one of them will be one of the elite though.

The funeral was a somber affair, that contradicted The bright lives that were taken. The rebels had taken the King Friedrich and Queen Theresa much too young. With their deaths, I was untimely ripped from Prince to King in a matter of days after their deaths.

My little sister Amelia clung too me tightly as I held her in my arms, her small arms just barely wrapped around my neck as she cried into my shoulder. I don't know who was holding on to the other more tightly.

The event was televised so I forced myself to maintain a dry face. No tears for the King of Illea.

"Your Majesty?" The reporter approached, microphone in hand. Can't I mourn in peace? At that moment I wanted nothing more than to rip that microphone from his hands and have him removed from the premises. Unfortunately My late Mother and Father raised me better than that.

"Yes, Jeff?"

"On behalf of Illea our hearts go out to you. Your Mother and Father were gracious rulers and we pray your reign will be just as glorious."

"I thank you. I will do all in my power to ensure that Illea remains as united as it did during my dear parents rule," I said. Amelia cried herself to sleep. Thankfully our conversation hadn't caused her to stir.

"Now everyone wants to know is the selection still on?" He asked. The Selection, an event following a prince's nineteenth birthday in order for him to find a future Queen. Jeff couldn't be more inconsiderate if he tried. Alas the selection was tradition, and postponing it would be a sign of weakness. A weakness I couldn't allow the rebels to take advantage of.

"Yes, The Selection will be on schedule," I said. Jeff looked happy to hear that. Jeff looked to the camera, and began a report.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Illea! This is an impromptu broadcast from the funeral of the late King and Queen of Illea. This is Jeff newly appointed King Charles has confirmed that The Selection is still on. As you all know, notices to participate in the Selection has been distributed through the mail. To all eligible young women between the ages of sixteen to twenty. We plan on receiveing thousands of applications from the beautiful women in Illea, placing their names in the lottery for the Selection. Soon, we will be celebrating the engagement of King Charles to a beautiful and enchanting daughter of Illea!" Jeff reported.

Technically it would be the day to announce The Selection, but couldn't he have waited a week. I am definitely considering having him fired. His booming voice caused Amelia to wake up. She burst into tears, and I tried to console her. With no luck. Amelia's nurse maid came forward and offered to take her from me. I gently pried her from me and placed her into Sandra's arms. I'd have to wrap this up quickly.

"And, now I bring to you the man of the hour, King Charles," Jeff said. The camera then panned so that I came into view.

"Thank you Jeff. Yes, The Selection will remain on schedule," I said.

"Now, I'm sure all our viewers want to know, how do you feel about thirty-five women moving into your palace?" Jeff asked.

"The timing could be better, but I welcome all of them into my home, and I will be most gracious for their company. The passing of my parents has been hard, and I hope that The Selection will offer hope and prosperity for a most tragic time in Illea's history," I said. The truth was if it wasn't such a long standing tradition stemming from the founding of the nation, I would postpone it, perhaps even cancel it completely.

"One last question, what do you look for in the future Queen of Illea?" Jeff asked.

"Well Jeff I would want someone who would be a good role model for my dear sister, Princess Amelia, and the rest of the nation. Someone who is comfortable in their own skin, and isn't afraid to be themselves, is loving and understanding and someone I will have no trouble confiding in," I said. I meant that. Amelia would need a strong female role model now that our Mother has passed. Her being only two I wonder if one day she will not remember them. That thought saddens me almost as much as the loss of them.

"From the King's mouth to our ears, Ladies and Gentlemen Good night!" Jeff said. The camera's faded out and it was over. From Prince, to King to husband. I am not ready for this.


	3. The Session

I don't own The Selection Trilogy. Keep on submitting your OC's.

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><p>Phaedra's POV<p>

"It's just so hard being me sometimes, you know? At the rate I'm going I'll be lucky to get two more years before I'm dropped completely from modeling. That scares me a lot. I have no idea what I'll do when that happens. This face right in front of you is my life. Do you see what I see? Lines! Lines right underneath my eyes. Who will want to hire a model with lines under their eyes. It keeps me up at night, and I think, is this what my life has become? If so I don't know what to do. You are so lucky being you. You don't have to put up with the stress of rigorous cutthroat world that is modeling. Odds are that if you were born a two like me you would be a model as well. Only your face looks so much more preserved than mine. How old are you? twenty? I bet a pretty thing like you will be trying out for the selection. How old do you think I am? No don't answer that. I'm too old to be in the selection. A once in a life time chance to be more than I am and I am too—

Bring!

That sound ended my last session of the day. I was so relieved by that. It's a shame you can't wring your patients necks sometimes. You can only be talked at for so long that you start to wonder if you have lost the ability to speak yourself. The truth was Hannah Addams' case was one I've heard far too many times. It was to the point where every model I have taken on has or will eventually have this conversation with me. It was a relief that I have had a lot of practice with this situation. Two's were after all a psychologists main income. I better just give her the usual spiel and send her on her way.

"Ms. Addams your session is over. Before we meet up next week I want you to think about a new direction you want your life to go in. Just because one door is slowly closing doesn't mean that another one won't open for you soon. Your life is far from over, and the minute you think it is, you've lost," I said. As soon as I finished she gave me a bone crushing hug. Her arms were restraining mine, so I couldn't really do anything. I think I heard something crack.

"Thank you, thank you," she said. She gave me one more bone shattering squeeze before leaving. My day was officially over. I soon packed up and made my way home.

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><p>"Hey sis, it's my turn to pick our competition," Athena said. Athena loves to compete with me. Sibling rivalry is very common. Especially regarding if they are of the same gender. Personally I rather not engage, however if I don't my sister gives me the silent treatment until I agree. Seriously, she didn't talk to me for two months until finally gave in. Our triplet of a brother Dmitri, was no help at all.<p>

"Okay, what is it this time?" I asked. It was better to get this over with.

"We are going to enter The Selection, and may the best one win," The truth was I had no intention of entering The Selection. With the death of his parents and all The Selection was the last thing he needed.

"Don't you think with what just happened that it would be insensitive to enter?" I asked.

"No, everyone is doing it, and I am not missing out on my chance to be the next Queen of Illea, and neither are you, and if you don't I won't talk to you for three months," I knew those threats were very real. Oh why not, odds are I won't even be picked.

"Fine," I said.

"Yay, here is your application. Let's fill them out together," she said. We then proceeded to fill out our application. Logistics wise, I was far more likely to be picked over Athena. I did not tell her that though. The way these questions were phrased, not to mention the quantity of them made me think that this was not so much an application that will be picked out at random but rather a resume. Otherwise they would stick our names in a hat, and may the odds be with you. Talk about your mental mind trap. You think it's random and then if you were ever to learn how not random it was, being rejected literally means, you weren't good enough. That would be a blow to any girls self esteem. It might mean more clients though. Now I sound like the insensitive one. It must be a family thing.

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><p>Or, maybe I am just overthinking it. With luck however, I won't have to worry too much about it. They will reject me and the I can move on with my life.<p>

The next day we made our way into town to drop our applications off. The line up was huge. This will take a while. It was lines like these that truly showed the economical differences of the castes. You had your clean fitted designer dressed people, and then you had people whose clothes were obviously second hand, and in some cases their clothes were either too big or too small. I don't know what was going through Gregory Illea's head when he thought that castes were a good idea.

The line moved quicker than I had thought. Before long Athena and I were escorted to different stations, and asked to smile to have our pictures taken. I did as I was told and then was quickly ushered out. I then found Athena, and we then made our way home.

"Well, that's that," she said. Over half an hour in line, for that? It all felt even more pointless at that point.

"Yeah, that's that, indeed," I said.


	4. The Tears

I don't own the Selection Trilogy. Keep on submitting. Thanks to all who have reviewed or submitted so far.

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><p>King Charles POV:<p>

Following Jeff's complete lack of respect I sent a strong worded complaint to his bosses. If he is not fired I expect he'll be heavily reprimanded, and hopefully have more tact in the future.

It had been a couple days since the announcement and preparations for The Selection were going full swing. My parents had only just started them before their murder, so many of the plans now fell on me. I have been meeting with Trinity the royal planner for the last couple hours to discuss details.

Most of them were tedious like about having the rooms cleaned, and colour schemes, and decorations. One earlier conversation that really stood out was The Women's room. Mom used to spend hours there with Amelia. I could slash would not go in there. I told Trinity that she could handle that.

"For the selection at the very least, we're going to need more staff. Forgive my bluntness, but rebel forces depleted a great deal of the staff. Especially maids. Even if we used every last maid we currently have we are still eleven short. I propose that we have open interviews both for the current staff and getting the word out there in Angeles and the neighbouring provinces that we are understaffed for The Selection and that while the position of maid for the selectees is temporary they will be well compensated," Trinity said. At the mention of rebels and losses my heart clenched. I hope it wasn't noticeable. While the plan was sound there were still a few things to consider.

"While I understand our plight, I think our problem needs to remain as tight lipped as possible. If word gets out to the wrong people it would be easy for the rebels to launch another attack, of the magnitude of the last. We can't afford another," I said.

"True. Should I contact the head of staff and see if he can get friends and family of our current staff to see if they can lend a few people?"

"That sounds like a better idea," I said.

"Good. Now a new string of guards are being shipped over, and will be here in two days. Just one more piece of business and we can call it a day. A formal social for the selected. I need a theme, any idea's" I hate formals, they''re dull and uninteresting. With everything that was going on if I was going to a formal, it's going to be disguised by layers and layers of gaudy swag.

"I've done a lot of reading lately, way before Illea's founding. Therefore, this should be a historical event something memorable. The theme I propose is disco," I said.

"Disco? I am not familiar with the term. Care to elaborate?"

"Oh, it's a soiree filled with a lot of lights music, suits, dresses, dancing, it'll be great," I said. What kinds of those things can be left out until after Trinity approves. I'd have to ask the seamstress' about having me a powder blue suit made. Once she approves something, she was determined to see it through. I wonder what my Mom and Dad would've suggested. Probably a masquerade. Now that was old fashioned. They probably would put some type of modern twist on it though. They were big on blending the old with the new. Maybe down the line I'd try something similar.

"Oh that sounds lovely, I—

"Char-y!" Amelia squealed as she ran into the into my arms. She's a strong little thing, she nearly caused me to fall out of my chair. She then started to cry. I just held her tight and let her.

A knock sounded at the open door and Sandra stood just outside. Sandra was a mute. Despite that she came highly recommended by her last employer, who was one of Illea's ambassadors. His son had grown to old for her services, so he requested that she be Amelia's. It worked out quite well, until recently that is.

"Come in," I said. She then came in with a brush, no more questions were needed. Our mother would always excuse Sandra so that she would brush her hair herself. " May I?" I asked, indicating to the brush. She then handed it to me.

"Trinity, Sandra, could you give us a few minutes?"

"Of course your majesty," Trinity said. They then left. Amelia had started to calm down. I then placed her on my lap and brushed her shoulder length honey coloured hair. It reminded me of our father's. Only her's wasn't as manageable. It wanted to be free and unrestrained.

"I want mommy," she said. That statement alone caused a tear or two to fall from my eyes. I wiped them away before she noticed. That was the first time I had cried for them after their deaths. There was always someone around I couldn't afford to show such weakness in front of. It hurts.

"I know, Amelia, I want Mom and Dad too," I said. I then put the brush on the table and gave her a hug. "Things will get better eventually," I said. They had to.

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><p>A contestant will be introduced next chapter.<p> 


	5. The Blank Canvas

I don't own the Selection Trilogy. Keep on submitting. Thanks to all who have reviewed or submitted so far. I need some antagonistic characters to stir the pot a little.

Also for the sake of moving the story along I'm putting a deadline on for submissions. The deadline is January 26, afterward I'll be adding filler characters for the rest. I'm sorry for any inconvenience.

Now for a look into the life of Rarity Salina Blakely

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><p>Rarity's POV<p>

I was in the loft of our house that passed for our studio, trying to figure out what to do for my next piece. The thing was I was too restless to work. Ever since the announcement about The Selection my Mom has been hounding me to enter. Though she has been hounding me for much longer to find someone and settle down. Ugh.

The problem wasn't so much as finding someone, I've had been with a few someone's over the years. Nothing serious though. No, the problem was the settling. Settle and me don't belong in the same sentence. Whenever I try to visualize my wedding day and who I might end up with my mind always comes to a complete blank.

For the past three hours I've been making random strokes on the canvas, a lot of pacing throwing a makeshift ball out of paper into the air, and experimenting with the colour palette. If anything I have a colour scheme. Blues greens and greys. Perhaps a stormy ocean landscape kind of thing. Well, it's a start. I then started to outline the canvas.

"Rarity, can you come down for a minute?" I heard my Mom call from down stairs. So much for getting something done today. My Mom would need the studio space soon. I suppose my canvas would have to remain blank a little longer.

"Coming," I said as I made my way down. As I entered the living room I was greeted with a sheet of paper in front of my face. I knew where this was going.

"Have you thought more about entering?" She asked.

"I have, and I think I'm going to give it a miss. The Selection isn't really my scene. Thirty-five girls and one guy, not an ideal environment if you ask me."

"Rarity, you're at an age where everyone is matching off and starting a life. What if one day you wake up and realize that your life has passed you by, and it's just too late. Being in The Selection will get you noticed, and a caste promotion, one that will open even more opportunities for you" Slowly, but surely my Mom was wearing me down. Not the whole your life will be over soon part, but the idea of how much my Mom actually wants this. Well, it couldn't hurt to put in an application. I knew there was also money involved in the whole deal, and the thing is, we were very low on funds at the moment, no matter how Mom said we were okay, I knew that we were only scraping by. I wonder if it's possible to eat the palace out of house and home. That was a yummy thought.

"If it means that much to you, fine, I'll do it, but I probably won't get picked" I said. I was then enveloped in a hug, I then encircled my own arms around her.

"Good, now I'll leave you alone to fill out the form, and then we'll drop it off together. Let me know if you need help," she said. She handed me the form, and made her way to the kitchen.

The form itself was fairly standard, and easy to fill out. I wrestled a little with my mind as to what to put down for a second talent, painting was a given, but what else. Somehow I doubt being a champion of hide and seek was going to cut it.

"Hey Mom, I can't think of a second talent. Any Ideas?" I yelled to the kitchen. She then came in.

"No need to shout, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if the neighbours heard you. As to your question you almost chose to be a stage actress a few years ago, you could put that down," she said. It was a bit of a stretch, not the acting part, but the fact about taking it up professionally. That would imply I took direction well.

"Okay, thanks," I said. I put it in, then continued to fill the rest of the form out.

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><p>After finishing the form, and two hours of Mom fussing over me to make me presentable, strangely enough I let her, we were now in a very long line to submit the application. I caught a lot of tidbits of Prince here, and palace there. Not to mention a lot of self entitled snobs, noticeably the two's rattling on, as if they were already chosen. Soon it was my turn. I was then put into a chair I only had enough time to put on a somewhat decent face before a snap and a flash went off, before being ushered out and then the next person was already in the chair. Talk about being given the a bum's rush.<p>

"I'm so happy you entered I have a good feeling about this," Mom said, at least she's happy about it. Someone should be. I didn't really care either way.

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><p>More of Charles and Amelia next chapter.<p> 


	6. The Reunion

I don't own The Selection Trilogy.

Four more sleeps to go before the deadline. Be sure to submit before then. I am still in need of antagonists.

Thanks to all that reviewed and submitted this far.

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><p>King Charles POV<p>

I had just finished holding court for the day, when one of the guards entered the throne room.

"Your Majesty, a woman named Rosette Connelly is here claiming to be your aunt. She wishes to speak with you," he said. The truth was I'm surprised Auntie Rosy showed up at all. I sent a missive to her as soon as my parents died, but I didn't think she would actually come. My late parents and her had a falling out a couple years before Amelia was born. I haven't seen her since I was fourteen.

"Send her in Officer Bates," I said. He bowed and then took his leave. The truth was I didn't know what to make out of my Aunt returning after all this time. After five years she is practically a stranger to me. More so to Amelia who may have never even heard of her. A moment later she came in escorted by Officer Bates. She approached and made her way in a graceful curtsy.

"Your Majesty," she said.I was a little surprised by the gesture. I was even more surprised by however by the almost identical likeness she had to my late Mother. Her long brownish blonde hair was in a restrained in an intricate bun, her cheek bones soft and round, the only difference was that while my Mother had hazel eyes, Auntie Rosy had light brown.

"You may rise. Officer Bates may you leave us?" I asked. He gave a brief bow before leaving. I the addressed Auntie Rosy. "It's been a long time. How have you been all these years?"

"Quite well. You certainly have grown since the last time I saw you. I'm sorry I missed the funeral I didn't think it appropriate that I attend," she said. We were quite close all those years ago, but now time has reduced us to standing on formalities.

"That's quite alright, Auntie Rosy. Please stay as long as you want I'll have one of the guest rooms prepared for you," I said. She seemed to perk up at me calling her 'Auntie Rosy.' Some habits are too ingrained into your head that even after all these years you still fall back on them. At this point I'm hoping we will reconnect and she will stay for a long time. One of the things that sort of surprised me was that she never married. Though there was still a chance she would at this point it's unlikely.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said.

"While it's just us you can call me Charles," I said. The truth was with The Selection going through the application process at the moment, her timing couldn't be better. "I have a favor to ask you" I said.

"Really, what is it?"

"The Selection applications are starting to come in. I would like you to be on the committee that chooses the selected," I said. It's a long standing tradition that the Prince or in this case King not be on the committee, and that a family member be on it to help decide what they deem suitable for the heir. Less than two weeks ago it would have been my Father who would head the committee that would decide the participants. That thought that once caused me to fill with curiosity and excitement now causes me to ache at what will never be.

"I would be delighted to help. Now what has happened after all these years?" She asked. So much.

"I'm a big brother, to a two year old sister named Amelia," I said. I could tell that that was a huge surprise to her. I wasn't surprised. A seventeen year gap was surprising. Add to the fact that she never heard of her. The knowledge that my parents had a second child, had not spread much further than Angeles. My parents wished for her not to be thrust into the spotlight until she was older.

"Really. I'm surprised, Theresa told me she wouldn't be able to have more children shortly after you're born. I guess she's what you'd call a miracle child. I'd like to meet her," she said. I already knew that. I've heard that Mother had a difficult pregnancy with me. There were complications, I was never told the exact circumstances though. I was told she was having even more problems carrying Amelia to term. I saw how easily fatigued she was. Amelia was also born three week pre mature, and that the doctors had to perform a C-section on her.

For now though until I knew if Amelia knew she had an Aunt I think it would be best if she doesn't meet Auntie Rosy. I would tell her tonight, and introduce her tomorrow.

"I'll introduce her tomorrow," I said. I think she knew why I didn't introduce her today because she agreed readily. Later down the line I would have to ask her what happened between my parents and her.

We spent the evening catching up. I later showed her to her quarters where she would be staying for the time being. I hoped Amelia would take the news well.

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><p>The next chapter will introduce more contestants. The chapter after that will include Amelia finding out about her aunt.<p> 


	7. The Forced Rebel

I don't own The Selection Trilogy

Only two more sleeps until the deadline, be sure to submit

Thanks to those who have reviewed and submitted.

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><p>Mallory's POV<p>

I needed a way out. After years and years of being lied to I had had enough. All these years of believing in a cause, and it blowed up in my face. I needed a new life. Thankfully, the timing couldn't be more perfect. The Selection offered me a chance to escape. I would have to make sure my Father didn't find out before it was too late though. That could only end in disaster. That worried me more than being found out by the royal family mid selection.

My Father was one of the leading figures of the Southern Rebellion. He firmly believed that the monarchy must end. For the majority of my life I believed him in the cause we were fighting for. That was until I noticed the lengths to which The rebellion would go to ensure its victory. Killing the late King and Queen was the last straw for me.

I was taking my worries and frustrations out on the bread I was kneading. I found that kneading bread was the best way for me to let out all of my frustrations. My bread always turned out better when I was letting out my frustrations into it.

I made a lot of bread. The customers loved their bread sticks. Granted the restaurant I was chef of was nothing glamorous but it was quite popular. I liked that the simplest of things can have the biggest impact.

My father and my older sister never approved of my choice to become a chef. They wanted me to work at one the factories that housed rebels. They would do the work while plotting their next attack on the monarchy. Do to the inconspicuous nature of a factory that manufactures something as mundane as rope no one paid attention to the idea that there might be more going on.

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><p>I had just put the last of the bread in the oven when my Father entered through the back entrance of the restaurant. He wore his usual frown of disappointment he seemed to have especially reserved for me. You would think I would be used to it by now. Alas that face always made me feel small. Granted I was already small, but that look made me feel like I might as well have been as small as a mouse. My sister came in behind him with a similar expression, though she couldn't pull off the same level of intimidation my Father put into his.<p>

"Hello Mallory, we need to talk," he said. This could not go well. No conversations were ever pleasant with him when he said, 'we need to talk." With the timing I imagine that this could only mean that he wanted to talk about The Selection. He couldn't have found out that I had planned to enter The Selection already. Could he?

"Yes Father. Can this wait until after work? If my manager sees you in here I could lose my job," I said. I made sure to avert his gaze, in order to appear like I wasn't really questioning him being here even though I was.

"This won't take long. I'll be frank with you, I want you to enter The Selection," he said. What? I could not have heard him right. There is no way he would want me within a hundred miles of The Selection. "We need you to act as our inside man and relay information back to our forces. I already filled out the form for you. After work you are to drop it off. I argued tooth and nail for you to have this job. Don't let me down. We will discuss this more after you have been chosen, and with the way I set you up, you will be chosen," he said. He placed form on the now clean counter that was just minutes ago riddled with flour. With one more frown in my direction as if daring me to object he left with my sister right behind him.

What matter of mess I had just found myself in? On the bright side I no longer had to tip toe around him to enter. On the other side I have just been drafted to represent The Southern Rebellion in The Selection. Well, either way I was entering The Selection, but if I'm caught on either side of not supporting their ideals, I could be put to death. Either by the crown or the rebels. At this point I almost hope I'm not chosen.

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><p>I was now waiting in line. You'd think that after so many selections that they would come up with a more convenient method to submit applications. A lot of the people in line were here with their Mothers. Mine died while giving birth to me. I knew my Father blamed me. We were never close, even when I tried to do everything to earn his approval. When I realized that it was no use I forged my own path, which pushed me to be a chef. It was only when I stopped trying that my Father started to notice me. Though not in a way that was more positive. I went from being ignored to being a disappointment. It was a lose lose situation either way. I almost wish at times I was still ignored. Then all I would have to worry about is him finding out, not being forced to play double agent.<p>

After what felt like forever, I was put into a chair. I tried to put on an expression that made me look mysterious and a bit of an enigma. I had practiced the expression in the mirror for over and hour in order to memorize the muscle movements in my face just right. Afterwards I was ushered away. I thought I would feel good about the possibility of a new life away from the rebellion. Now though, I just feel sick to my stomach.

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><p>Next chapter, Amelia finds out about Rose<p> 


	8. The Meeting

I don't own The Selection Trilogy

It's crunch time. By January 26, 2015, 11:59 pm pst Submissions will be due. Be sure to submit yours before it's too late.

Thanks to all who have submitted or reviewed.

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><p>King Charles POV<p>

Spending the day catching up with Auntie Rosy felt good. I felt much better than I have been since the my parents deaths. After escorting her to her chambers I made my way over to see Amelia. Telling her about Auntie Rosy may be difficult. It would be much easier if I knew how much she knew.

I entered the nursery where I found Amelia and Sandra building a castle out of blocks on the floor. The structure was looking a little wobbly, Amelia was trying desperately to save the structure, but she brushed against a piece too hard as she was placing another one down and it toppled over. The pout that followed was adorable. She then noticed me and ran into my arms

"Char-y!" She yelled as she wrapped her arms around my legs. I scooped her up and spun her around. When I was done she wrapped her arms around my neck. "How was Char-y's day?" She asked. I wished she never grew out of calling me Char-y, though I imagined it was inevitable she does.

I dismissed Sandra for the day. She gave a curtsy before departing. I then turned my attention back to Amelia. "My day was good, better than good actually. There is something I need to talk to you about," I said. She gestured that she would like to be let down. Afterwards she took my hand and dragged me towards her table, that had a fake tea set and an abundance of over sized stuffed animals in chairs. She sat me between Ella the Elephant, and Mona the Monkey. She then made her way to sit across from me.

She lifted the fake teapot in my general direction. I lifted the cup, and she pretended to pour tea into it. She took a sip of her 'tea' and the looked at me expectantly. At this point I supposed that beating around the bush wouldn't do much good.

"Amelia, did Mom ever say anything about her having a sister?" I asked. She looked confused maybe I should reword it "Did she mention that you have an auntie?" I asked. She nodded slowly, it looked like she might start crying. I made my way around and give her a hug. She seemed to calm down pretty quickly afterward.

"Yes. She say I have an auntie," she said.

"What did she say about her?"

"She say that Auntie and Mommy were close, but before I was born they fell apart," she said. That was what happened. They were once very close, but one day, they had a huge fight and then nothing.

"She's here and she wants to meet you," I said. Amelia looked up at me. Her expression was a little off as if she hadn't heard me. I was about to repeat myself, but she just rested her head in the crook of my neck of my neck.

"Okay, Char-y."

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><p>After Amelia had sat down to breakfast, I had a guard send for Auntie Rosy. She shortly came in. As soon as she came in I noticed Amelia took one look at her, and looked shocked.<p>

"Mommy," she whispered. Uh-oh I should have explained this to her sooner.

"No Amelia, that's Mommy's sister, your auntie," I said She stared a little longer, before getting out of her chair and gave her a hug. Auntie Rosy then leaned down and returned it.

"Hello Amelia," she said. Amelia then took a step back and ran as if to hide behind me.

"Amelia it's okay. She's nice. No need to be scared," I said, coaxing her away from behind me. She poked her head out from from behind my legs and stared at her. Auntie Rosy bent down and so that she was eye level with Amelia.

"Hello Amelia, I'm your auntie. It's nice to meet you," she said. Amelia stared at her I imagine she was noticing the different eyes.

"Where you from?" She asked. I was surprised that she asked that first, but then again after never meeting her before it was not a huge stretch to ask. Auntie Rosy smiled.

"I grew up with your Mommy in Yukon. In recent years though I have been living in Panama," she said.

"Where that?" She asked, still partially behind me.

"Yukon is in the North where it's cold, and Panama is in the South where it's warm, at times quite hot. A lot hotter than here," she said. She opened her arms when she was done. Amelia stared for a second before slowly making her way forward for the offered hug. This time she didn't pull away.

"You staying?" she asked. Her voice was saturated with hope.

"Yes."

* * *

><p>The Next chapter will be the last of the application intro's before moving on to the rest.<p> 


	9. The Two Trips

I don't own The Selection Trilogy

Do to multiple problems with character submissions the deadline has been extended until Friday.

Thanks to all that have reviewed and submitted.

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><p>Beatrice's POV<p>

Sometimes, I really hate Melvil Dewey for coming up with the Dewey Decimal System. Why someone would name a filing system after themselves is beyond me. Regardless I just finished sorting through the last shipment for the day. The library was made a tomb seem quiet. It didn't help that I was the only one on duty today. Alyson had a date with her boyfriend, and asked me to cover for her in case our boss showed up. Only four more hours, though four hours isn't that short of a time and I was bored out of my mind. Doesn't anyone read anymore. By the lack of people coming in I had my doubts. The lack of activity in my life was really starting to affect my writing.

Who knows, maybe if I get selected I could write a memoir on my experience in The Selection. That sounds like a high seller. What would I call it though? The Selection: A Librarians Tale? Well, it wasn't the worst thing I had come up with.

I glanced at the trolley and took note of a book I had missed, 800.94. European literature. I flipped it over and sure enough the title read "Oliver Twist," It bugged me at times that I had the system almost memorized. All well, I guessed there were worse thing to have memorized, though none came to mind. That would mean I'd have to go to the third floor. For my safety I opted to take the elevator, I would trip if I took the stairs. Even if I was super careful there was almost no chance of me not tripping.

I made my way into the elevator and pressed three. I wobbled a little when the lift started up. As I made my way out of the elevator when it had stopped and opened the sliding door, my foot caught in the groove and I fell flat on my face. That really hurt. It would be just my luck to have a print of the carpet marred into my face, and on selection day too. I gave a sigh before continuing to the proper shelf. I rounded the corner and noticed someone sitting at one of the tables.

Hmm, it seemed someone had snuck in without my knowing. Maybe if I'm quiet he won't notice me.

" Excuse me miss?" He said. So much for not being noticed. I turned to face him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I'm here looking for a book?"

"Well what else would you be looking for?" Did I really just say that? Wow, talk about foot in the mouth. I was about to apologize, but he took it in good humour and gave a little laugh. Good, I haven't offended him.

"I'm looking for a book called math made easy, it's for my son," he said.

"That would be in either 510 or 518. That's down a floor. If you wait here I can fetch it for you?"

"That'd be good, thanks," he said. I took off after that. When I went into the elevator I made sure to step over the groove this time after the door had opened. I caught my reflection in the interior's reflective paneling. I brushed my blonde hair away from my face to assess the damage. Good, my left cheek is a little red, but it was fading, and their wasn't an imprint of the carpeted floor to be seen. I then left the elevator to find that book.

It turned out to be in 518 after all Numerical analysis. I then made my way back up to meet him.

"Here you are," I said, handing the book to him. He looked at it for a couple seconds.

"Thanks," he said. I took that as a dismisal and made my way down stairs. I haven't been to the upper levels of the library in weeks. I hoped it would be many weeks to come before having a repeat.

* * *

><p>I was now in line to drop off my application for The Selection. It looked like it was a mad house earlier, but due to how late it was now, the line was a fair ways shorter. I was thankful for that. The downside was that with fewer people there wasn't as big as a rush to get people out the doors.<p>

Fifteen minutes later, I was escorted into a seat, got my facial features in order then snap goes the camera. I was then guided out the door.

Well, that was that. On the way home I tripped on a crack in the side walk. This time I fell backwards. Forget breaking my Mother's back, I was worried about my own. I got to my feet and my had to slouch a little afterwards. My tail bone was probably bruised after that one. I limped the rest of the way home.

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><p>Next time The Selection Committee Convenes<p> 


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